Sketches
by Lord Ripplescales
Summary: The Boy-Who-Lived finds an outlet for his stress, one which draws the curiosity of a certain shapeshifter. Harry/Tonks
1. Sunsets and Shapeshifters

**Disclaimer: I own nothing regarding the HP universe other than my copies of the books and movies.**

 **Chapter 1: Sunsets and Shapeshifters**

Harry had no idea what it was that drew him to the roof. All he knew was that, when he was up here, alone with nothing but the sky and his sketch pad, it became infinitely easier to concentrate; to clear his mind; to create.

Up here, he could forget about his problems. Forget about his recently-deceased godfather. Forget about the people who would like nothing more than to see him dead. It was an escape from his issues, a place he could truly relax in.

He wasn't sure what exactly it was about the roof, which gave it an almost magnetic pull that called to him relentlessly. It could have been the way the wind gently ruffled his already messy black hair, or perhaps the way the setting sun cast its glow upon him. It didn't matter. Not when he was up here. Nothing mattered but what creations he could make from his imagination, or what he could add to the world around him.

His hand moved rapidly over the sketch pad, the scratch of the pencil occasionally muffled by the rustling of leaves as a gust of wind blew through. He paused briefly to protectively clutch the notepad, panicked thoughts of it blowing away flitting through his mind. He dismissed them as quickly as they had come as nothing more than idle paranoia, as terrifying a thought as losing his precious sketch pad was.

He gazed out once more at the setting sun, sighing deeply and kicking out one sock-covered foot off the edge of the roof. He could already hear the crickets begin to chirp into the quiet evening, as the earth hungrily absorbed the last of the sun's rays.

Glancing down at his sketch pad, he grimaced at his failed attempt to do justice to the beauty that was before him. It seemed nigh impossible for him to represent all that he could see in one sketch.

The sky was simply too vast, the sun too beautiful, the horizon too expansive. How can one capture the true beauty of nature, when it's nigh on impossible to even describe it with words alone? As he stretched and stood, joints creaking in protest from the prolonged stillness he had imposed upon them, he reached down and grabbed his sketch pad. He paused for a moment, his hands gently flipping through the pad.

Looking at all of his failed efforts, Harry felt a sudden anger sweep over him, aimed at both himself and the world, at Umbridge, at Voldemort, at Dumbledore, at everyone. He ripped his latest page out of the book, balling it up and throwing it off the woods towards the street.

As he watched it fall out of his view, he felt the anger leave him as quickly as it had come, leaving him feeling empty and drained. The last of the Potter's took one last look at the sunset before sighing and heading inside, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

* * *

Down below, Nymphadora Tonks was leaning against a tree. She'd been on watch under an invisibility cloak for three hours already, after an eight hour day patrolling Diagon Alley with Shacklebolt, and was coming closer and closer with each passing hour to telling Dumbledore exactly where he could stick his guard duty next time he asked her.

Very little actually happened on these guard shifts, which made her far more excited than she realistically should have been when she saw a ball of crumpled paper flit past her and fall a few feet away. Looking up towards the roof, she caught a glimpse at the back of Harry's head as he went back inside.

Once she was sure he was in, she headed over to the paper, curious about what he'd spent so long working on up there. He'd been there since the beginning of her shift, and she'd seen him up there for at least an hour every time she'd been forced on guard duty, it was only natural to wonder just what he was scribbling away on that pad of his.

As she reached the paper and unraveled it, she gasped. The paper was filled with an incredibly detailed sketch of the skyline, shaded perfectly to represent the rapidly setting sun. Even marred as it was by having been balled up and thrown, it was absolutely amazing, and it was easy to see what had taken him so long. She wouldn't even know where to begin if she was attempting a similar sketch, and yet his had turned out so well that she was tempted to frame it, wrinkles and all.

She glanced up once more, the sketch still clutched in her hands. There was definitely more to the Boy-Who-Lived than could be seen at first glance, and she decided then and there to figure out the enigma that was Harry Potter.

Maybe her future shifts watching over 4 Privet Drive wouldn't be so boring after all.

 **A/N: Thanks for reading if you made it through. Felt like putting out a short little one-shot I've written over the course of a couple of train rides to school - Please review if you liked** **it and tell me what you enjoyed, if you disliked it feel free to review as well and let me know what you disliked.** **Thanks again for reading guys n gals.**


	2. Questions and More Questions

**Disclaimer: Nope, still own nothing. The struggles of a young University student.**

 **Chapter 2: Questions and More Questions**

It had been a month since summer began, and Tonks was getting no closer to discovering what made that infuriating green-eyed hero tick.

Initially, she had tried to talk to Ron Weasley when she'd first found an opportunity, but that had proven to be an utterly futile endeavor, one which ended up with her struggling to hold herself back from smacking the young red-head for his utterly disgusting table manners.

Molly had invited the members of the Order over for dinner at the Burrow, and refused to take no for an answer from any of them, leading to a crowded dinner table at the small, cozy home. Nonetheless, Tonks had managed to quickly snag a spot next to Harry's best friend, Ron, and as dinner was served she had found her opportunity to ask him about the Boy-Who-Lived.

 _Flashback_

 _Everyone was seated at the table, and there was already heated discussion about the latest actions of You-Know-Who at the far end of the table, between Remus and Kingsley._

 _Watching him, the metamorphmagus had to admit that Remus had a certain charm to him, despite his scruffy clothing and well-known "furry problem". Tonks and Hestia Jones had had a bit of a giggle over the thought of the shapeshifter getting together with the werewolf, but watching him now, it struck her how old he was. He had been aged beyond his years by the curse, and even he hadn't he was still old enough to be her father. She shivered and recoiled as a memory of her father at the dinner table appeared in her mind as she looked at Remus. There was no way she could date him, not with that picture stuck in her mind._

 _The young Auror sighed as she glanced quickly next to her at Harry's friend Ron, who was eyeing the plates of food Molly was levitating onto the table with an almost frightening look of hunger. She almost could have sworn there was drool there._

 _"Dig in everybody!" Came the motherly voice of Molly Weasley from where she was sitting._

 _Tonks cleared her throat and turned sideways to face Ron, who was piling his plate next to her to a height that made her fearful for her safety should it collapse. She knew she had to talk to him, though, as from what she had heard she was doubtful she'd be able to find anyone closer to Harry than the living vacuum next to her... Regardless of how completely revolting his table manners may be._

 _"So Ron, how long has Harry been drawing for? I found one of his sketches not too long ago and was really impressed, he's quite good actually," Tonks said quietly to the boy beside her, grimacing as he turned towards her. She narrowly avoided a spray of food as he began to talk and had to choke back a gag._

 _"Wha' uh mean graw-", he swallowed deeply for a moment before repeating himself. "What do you mean, draw?"_

 _Quickly, before he could try to stuff more food in his mouth, she attempted to explain._

 _"He sketched this amazing drawing of the skyline last week, then just crumpled it up and threw it away. Why would he do that? It makes no sense to me," Tonks rushed out, her hair quickly flitting between colours as she rushed to get the words out._

 _Confusion filled Ron's face. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Harry can't draw - bloody hell, his handwriting is barely better than mine!" He exclaimed, before growing quiet as his mother shot him a glare. "I've never even seen him doodle before in class," Ron finished in a whisper, before seeming to remember that his mouth was empty and diving back towards his plate._

 _Tonks sighed as she shuffled her chair slightly away from him to avoid potential splatter._

 _She tried a few more times during the night, asking various people including Ginny, the Twins, and even McGonagall, but not one of them had even been aware Harry COULD draw, let alone have an inkling of how excellent an artist the last Potter was._

 _Somehow, she had even more questions now then she had when the night began. How could so many people, including his best friend, be completely ignorant of what had to be a major outlet for the kid, for him to have become so good?_

 _It was times like this that reminded her why she became an Auror. There was nothing to her as exciting as a result of mystery. Nothing got her blood pumping to the same degree, made her heart beat faster and her palms sweat as she figured out piece after piece to put the puzzle together._

 _And nothing infuriated her more than not being able to figure out that aforementioned puzzle, making her work harder and harder until, if she had to, she'd ripped the world asunder looking for the answer. Her mentor, Moody, had told her that that was the most important trait an top-Auror would have. It gave them the drive to continue when lesser men or women would have given up._

 _She hadn't given up during training, she hadn't given up when she struggled at passing the stealth section of the graduating exam, she hadn't given up when she'd hit a dead-end in her first ever case, and she wouldn't give up on figuring out the mystery of the dark-haired artist at number 4 Privet drive._

 _End Flashback_

It had been several weeks since she'd been to the Burrow and she was becoming more and more frustrated at her inability to figure this out.

She wished she could just go to the boy himself and ask him, but Dumbledore had said they weren't to make contact with him unless it was absolutely necessary. He had apparently had a bit of a fit in the headmaster's office after the events at the ministry, and Dumbledore was afraid some of that anger might be directed at his guards at Privet Drive, despite them simply obeying his instructions and watching out for Harry.

This meant she had to ignore her yearning to talk to the poor kid, who she could count on to, regardless of what he had been doing during the day, be up on the roof come sunset and scratch away at his little sketchbook, working without pause until the sun had set.

She found it hard to believe that he could improve on that first sketch, but he had yet to rip another page out of his book, leaving her utterly confused.

As he headed in once more after an evening of working away at his notebook, Tonks tried to resolve herself to ignore Dumbledore's orders. She told herself she just wanted to get down to the mystery of his sketches, though if she were honest with herself, that wasn't the only reason. After the death of his godfather, the kid needed a friend, or at least someone to talk to.

After a brief internal struggle, she ultimately decided what she was going to do.

 _Tomorrow, I'll find a way to talk with him._

 **A/N: Well, decided to type up another chapter, so I guess this is no longer considered a one-shot. Bummer. I'll try to keep going, and I may go back and revise a bit at a later date, but it all depends on my energy and mood, as always. If there's enough** **interest though, I'll definitely continue, so please review - All reviews are welcome, as always :)**

 **Thanks for reading, and have** **a great day folks _._**


	3. Green Eyes and Butterflies

**Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine, no matter how many times I say it. No Harry Potter for me.**

 **Chapter 3: Green Eyes and Butterflies**

The next morning Tonks found herself rushing out of bed and getting ready, forgoing the shower and casting cleaning charms on her hair and body while she cooked herself a quick breakfast. If she wanted to sneak this one by Dumbledore, she'd have to arrange everything perfectly.

She'd have to take one of the other Order member's shifts that came before or after hers if she wanted to have enough time to have a real conversation, and preferably someone who wouldn't mention it to the headmaster in anything but a dismissive manner.

Once she was ready to go, she apparated out to her first stop: Diagon Alley.

* * *

"Mundungus, shut up and listen." It has taken her almost an hour to find the thieving bastard, and she was in no mood to chat. Tonks wasn't a morning person on the best of days, and that wasn't even considering the time she's spent in Knockturn Alley looking for him.

The seediest of the Order members, excluding perhaps Snape, was seated on a precarious-looking stool, overlooking a small blanket covered with various items, from jewelry to small books. Judging by the way he had winced when he'd peered up from his items and made eye contact with her, few of them were legal.

"I'm taking your shift watching Potter today, got it? If Dumbledore asks, it's because I'm bored and off-duty today." She growled, glaring at him. The auror in her itched to arrest him, as she was willing to bet that none of those items had been obtained without the breaking of several laws, but she was off-duty and had better things to do than bust some nimble-fingered vagrant.

"Yeah s-sure Tonks, sure thing," Mundungus said, swallowing hard and looking around nervously. "You uh... You won't... You won't say anything about this right... friend?" He finished hopefully, giving her what must have been his best attempt at puppy-dog eyes.

All it did was make her want to vomit.

"Stop groveling Fletcher, you're pathetic. Just be glad I'm off duty and don't care enough about arresting some low-life," Tonks snarled, before turning on her heel and beginning to apparate.

"Wait!" Mundungus yelled out. "You wouldn't happen to want to buy a couple things, now would you? A pretty girl like you would look great with one of these necklaces..." He said quickly, with a calculating grin in his beady black eyes.

"Hey Mundungus..." Tonks said sweetly, stepping closer.

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?" She growled once she was close enough for him to feel her breath, before he collapsed in pain, clutching his groin.

Tonks grinned as she felt her foot connect with his groin again. As her boss, Amelia Bones, had told her time and time again, 'Only hit them once if you don't mind them getting back up, and if you've hit 'em once already, you may as well take out some frustration and keep going.'

Giving him one last swift kick, she grinned and disapparated, her bad mood evaporating as quickly as Mundungus Fletcher's ability to have children.

Her next stop in her mission to talk to the boy at 4 Privet drive was to change her looks up so Harry, or anyone else watching, didn't recognize her. That way, even if Mundungus did snitch to Dumbledore and he became curious enough to investigate, they wouldn't be able to know for sure it was her.

If she was honest with herself, she was probably acting quite paranoid about the idea of being caught, as it wasn't like she was doing anything illegal - but it was never a good idea to disobey someone as powerful as Dumbledore, and she did enjoy being in the Order. It made her feel like she was truly accomplishing something, despite her hands as an Auror being figuratively tied due to Fudge's incompetence.

As she gazed at herself in the mirror, she let her hair shift to a pale blonde and shrunk herself down a couple inches. Looking down at her body, she took away much of the lean, taut body she had worked so hard to achieve during Auror training. While she stayed skinny, she lost a great deal of the hard muscle, adding soft curves to replace hard muscle.

A couple of modifications to her face finished off her changes of her body, and with a flick of her wand her outfit changed into a pair of ripped jeans and a pink tank top, guaranteeing that she would be unrecognizable.

Giving herself one last look in the mirror, she grinned, sparkling white teeth shining back at her. A pale, blonde-haired teen was looking back at her, somewhat reminiscent of that Lovegood girl from the fiasco at the Ministry. Her disguise was perfect. There was only one place left for her to go - Privet Drive itself, to wait for the Boy-Who-Lived to head out on one of the walks she had seen him frequently take.

Stopping at her bedside table, she picked up that very first sketch she had ever seen from him, the one that started all of this. It was still just as incredible as it was when she had first found it and been awed by it. She gently folded it along a few of the already-present lines and placed it in her pocket, careful to avoid ripping the paper.

One more quick glance around the apartment had her confident she wasn't missing anything, and off she went. Time to figure out what exactly was going on with the last of the Potters.

She disapparated into a large untrimmed hedge just up the road from Harry, the common spot most of the Order apparated to if they didn't like apparating under an invisibility cloak, which most of them had a strong dislike for as it was. All of the cloaks the Order had were ratty or too small, making it a cramped, uncomfortable experience. While they served their purpose, wearing them wasn't exactly the glamorous experience that Dumbledore had promised they'd get for serving, as he put it, "the greater good", by joining his side of the fight against Voldemort.

After making sure the road was clear, she nonchalantly walked out of the hedge and onto the road, straightening out her top as she did so and pulling a leaf out of her hair. As uncomfortable as appearing in a hedge was, it was better than the alternative – Violating the statute of secrecy and getting in immense trouble, both with the law and her superiors, the latter of which expected and trusted her to not only follow the former but uphold it as well.

Trying to be casual, she walked slowly down the cement road, working her way towards the Dursley house slowly. She nonchalantly stopped several times, looking up and down the road, tying her shoes, and generally trying to kill time. Despite all of her efforts, Tonks silently berated herself as more and more time because she knew exactly how obvious she was being. There was no possible way anyone paying the slightest attention wouldn't wonder about the strange girl who was meandering up and down the quiet street, which was otherwise empty.

Just as she began to contemplate giving up and trying again another day, her patience was finally rewarded as she heard the slight creak of the Dursley's front door opening and watched as a mop of messy black hair emerged. She began to walk faster as Harry headed to the end of the driveway and began to turn in the opposite direction, towards the generally empty park he spent much of his time at.

"Hey! Excuse me!" She called out to him from a couple feet behind, once she had closed much of the gap. She began to pull out the paper from her pocket, carefully unfolding it.

Harry turned, with a small smile that failed to reach his eyes, and raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Hi! I was just wondering if this was yours?" Tonks gushed, playing up the energetic teen image she already appeared to be, as she held out the piece of paper containing his sketch. "It's so amazing! I found it at the end of your driveway and couldn't imagine why anyone would ever want to throw it out, it's so great!"

Harry's dark brows furrowed as he took the paper from her and studied it for a while before he looked up at her curiously.

"You found it at the end of the driveway? When? Today?" He asked, looking back down at the paper.

Tonks' heart began to beat quicker as she realized she'd forgotten a major detail. The sketch was from a month ago, how could she possibly explain her having it?

"At least a month ago, I found it walking through but I couldn't see you so I took it with me 'cuz I really wanted to meet the artist that did this! It's so great!" She replied perkily, smiling widely at him. "I've been on vacation so you know, I haven't really been around to come by and ask if it was yours."

Harry studied the girl looking at him, her bright teeth and hair nearly blinding him in the mid-day sun. It was an unusually nice day and here he found himself with a very pretty girl talking to him about his art, of all things.

"Well, yeah, it is mine, though I don't really show it off much… It really isn't that great," Harry responded, looking down at the art again. It was better than some of what he had drawn, but nothing special really.

Tonks had to stifle a laugh at that, though couldn't completely contain the giggle that escaped. "Really isn't that great? It's amazing! It's definitely better anything I can do at least, that's for sure."

Harry grinned at her, and this time, his smile fully reached his eyes. "Oh really now?"

"I still have issues with my stick figures being too lopsided!" She said, a small blush on her face from the way Harry was staring at her. Being this close to him, Tonks had to admit to herself that he really was an attractive guy, despite her definitely being too old for him. It really was hard arguing with those gorgeous green eyes, though.

Harry let out a laugh at that, which made her blush grow at the sound of it. _'Control yourself Tonks!'_ She cried internally.

Lost in her thoughts for a moment, she was broken out of them by Harry beginning to speak, who had been quiet for a few moments as well.

"You know; I was planning on going to the park just to kill some time and get some fresh air, but it doesn't hurt having company. Do you want to come?" Harry asked, trying to be relaxed but unable to keep all of the hope out of his voice. It was clear he was lonely, being cooped up in the Dursley house as he was, with none of his school friends to talk to other than by owl.

Tonks looked back at him with that smile still present on her face. This was definitely going better than she expected. "Sure! I don't have anything to do today and that sounds like fun to me!"

He grinned and turned away, taking a look over his shoulder to make sure she was following.

"So how long have you been drawing?" She asked curiously, gazing at him, as she fell into step beside him on their way to the park.

Harry took a moment before answering. "Honestly, I'm not sure when exactly I started. I've pretty much been drawing all my life. It's an amazing escape from reality for a little bit; I get to create my own reality, build it up how I like."

Tonks considered this as she walked next to him. If he had been drawing all his life, how did his best friend never notice? Was Ron that dense, or did Harry hide it for some reason? She had absolutely no idea how to ask that without it becoming obvious that she wasn't who she appeared to be. She'd have to hope it came up in conversation somehow.

A few more minutes of idle conversation passed, both enjoying it immensely before they began to close in on their destination.

Harry grinned at her as they reached the end of the road and the park came into view in the distance. "Thanks for the compliment on the art, by the way. I do appreciate it."

Tonks blushed and shrugged. "You don't have to thank me; I'm just being honest. It's really well done, I swear," She said, smiling brightly. She felt her heartbeat begin to speed up again, as they began to walk through the grass towards the small park. Every time he smiled at her, her resistance melted a little more. Despite getting her questions answered, meeting Harry only seemed to be making more problems for herself… Like the butterflies that wouldn't seem to stop beating their wings in her stomach every time he looked at her.

 **A/N: Thanks for reading, as always guys 'n gals. Sorry this one took a little longer than the other two, been swamped with schoolwork and had no chance to get anything out. I've got the skeleton planned out for Chapter 4, so I'm hoping that one doesn't take nearly as long, and is longer than this one - I do know that I've been putting out some very short chapters and I am planning on gradually increasing them, I.E: This one being longer than the previous two combined, but as for right now it's a work in progress. Hope you're all enjoying the Harry/Tonks I'm starting to introduce, I'll try my best not to make it too unbelievable.**

 **Thanks again everyone!**


	4. Monkey Bars and Shooting Stars

**DISCLAIMER: All I own are the various tumours likely forming from the stress of the life of a university student struggling. No Harry Potter for me, no matter how many shooting stars I wish on.**

 **Chapter 4: Monkey Bars and Shooting Stars**

Harry gazed at the other swingset and the woman it contained from where he was sitting on his own swing, as he slowly swayed back and forth. _Is this what it feels like to be a normal teenager for once?_

"What, do I have something on my face?" The blonde across from him asked, a mischievous grin on her face. "Or is my beauty just overwhelming you? I get that more than you would think, or maybe exactly as often as you think."

The young wizard shook his head as she broke him out of his thoughts and replied, a similar grin on his own, "I was about to ask you the same question, here I was thinking we were having a staring contest."

The girl giggled softly, her shoulders shaking and eyes bright with mirth. Looking at her, it was almost easy to forget about his issues. It was nice to be alone with someone genuine, who wasn't merely looking to be around him for his fame, or because of things others had told them about him. With Voldemort back, and the recent revelation of the prophecy, it felt like the weight of the entire world was resting upon his shoulders, and now that his godfather was gone, it was like someone had kicked his legs out from underneath him.

Harry sighed internally, his smile threatening to drop as the young blonde's giggling ceased and was replaced by a concerned look, clearly regarding his sudden silence.

"So what school do you go to?" Tonks asked, breaking the awkward silence that was threatening to kill the mood. There was clearly quite a bit on the raven-haired teen's mind, and she wasn't about to let him sink back into his shell after she'd made so much progress.

Harry took a moment before answering, debating internally on what story to give her, the one created by his aunt or one of his own devising. Deciding that going with the rumors spread by his aunt would have less of a chance of backfiring, he made up his mind, resigning himself to the way he already knew the girl would react.

"My aunt had me put in St. Brutus's Secure Center for the Incurably Criminal," He replied eventually, keeping an even expression on his face.

Surprisingly, this wasn't met with the instant negative reaction Harry was expecting, and instead there was an appraising look in the petite blonde's eyes.

"Incurably criminal, huh? A bad boy, interesting. You don't look the type," She teased, the sparkle in her eyes coming back in full force, with a slight smirk appearing that Snape would be hard-pressed to match.

The young Boy-Who-Lived had to contain himself from the elation he felt at this reaction. At the very least, she wasn't turning and running away instantly, and any other reaction was better than he was expecting.

Deciding to play along, he matched the smirk with one of his own, "You know what they say, anyone can be a criminal. That drawing you've got of mine, it's actually the blueprints to a bank heist."

Tonks laughed out loud at that. She hadn't realized how witty the teen could be when he was relaxed, and it was still surprising to find how much fun she was having.

They sank back into conversation after that, St. Brutus forgotten, talking on all subjects. With both of them attempting to avoid delving too deeply into their backgrounds, afraid they would fail to hold up if given too much scrutiny, it was quite easy not to mess up and mix up their stories, resulting in wide discussion ranging from topics about the newest technology to funny stories from their childhoods, never staying on any one subject for too long.

Eventually their conversation slowly drifted off and they were left swinging lazily next to each other, enjoying the warm summer air and the sun's slow descent from the sky.

Clapping his hands, Harry stood up abruptly, startling Tonks.

"There's one important thing that we haven't talked about yet," Harry said, pausing ominously, staring expressionlessly at the blonde from where he was standing a few feet away.

Tonks gulped as she heard this and noted the expression on his face, as she began to franticly think back to where in the conversation she gave herself away. Unable to come up with anything, she settled for maintaining an even gaze, prepared to deny the accusation she knew was coming.

"We need to see who's better at making it across the monkey bars," Harry finally finished, a smile breaking out across his face as he began to head the short distance away to the playground's set of monkey bars.

The Auror sighed to herself as she met his smile with her own, glad to know that she'd been overthinking an entirely innocent statement. Standing up, she followed him, stretching out her arms as she went.

"I hope you know I won't go easy on you!" She said as she thought back to Auror training, where they'd had to do a similar exercise as part of their weekly obstacle course. On account of her fitness and being able to make herself lighter at will, it had been incredibly easy for her to do it, and that was with her trainers whipping spells at her intermittently. This would be both literally and figuratively a walk in the park for the metamorphmagus.

As Harry watched her gracefully jump the short distance necessary to reach the bars, a slight movement caught his gaze. As she jumped, her jeans had shifted just enough to reveal a small, stick-like object tucked into the side of her shoes. Harry froze as he caught a better look at something that could be nothing but a wand. Reaching back, he fingered his wand for a moment, before releasing it just as she reached the other end of the monkey bars. He'd give her a chance.

"Your turn, good luck beating that!" She crowed, breathing rapidly after the quick pace she had set going across it.

"That's all I've got to beat?" He teased, jumping up himself to grab the bars.

As he made his way across, he tried his best not to focus too much on what he'd just discovered, and was forced rather abruptly to pay attention to what he was doing when he found his way blocked at the end of the monkey bars by that same blonde-haired girl who'd been on his mind.

"Ah-ah-ah, not so fast, I'm not letting you beat me!" Tonks smirked as she stopped him from making it across.

Harry paused for a moment, before deciding what he was going to do. He released one hand from the bars, making it seem like he was giving up, before grabbing her with that hand and wrapping his legs around hers then dropping without warning onto the ground. They landed in a tangled heap, both laughing happily as they slowly disentangled themselves from one another and lying back on the sand.

After a couple of minutes of laughter and relaxing, Tonks finally chose to break the silence.

"So, Mr. Bank Robber, how about you use some of your ill-begotten funds and buy me some ice cream?" She said, giving him an appraising look. She wasn't completely sure he'd go for it, they were getting uncomfortably close to the idea of them being on a date, but she couldn't help herself. Tonks was amazed at how easy it was for her to let her guard down around the guy, who prior to today she had only spoken a few sentences to at most.

While she'd had a couple boyfriends during her time at Hogwarts, it was difficult for her to get close to anyone who didn't want her for the more 'creative' possibilities that could be had with her metamorphmagus abilities. Her first two boyfriends had seen her as little more than the ultimate in sexual wish fulfilment, with one even going so far as to say, _"Now I don't need to date a redhead or a blonde to see who's better, I can have both at the same time!"._ The pompous idiot even had the gall to be offended when she had hexed him and chased him out of the broom closet they'd found themselves making out in.

With Harry, though, it was different. For once she was able to be herself, albeit with a little modified of a history, and know that she was being appreciated for who she was, not what she could do or turn into. It was refreshing, and the longer she spent in his presence the more disarmed and relaxed she became.

While Tonks was contemplating the enigma that was the raven-haired wizard next to her, he was doing some serious thinking of his own.

Ever since he had caught a glimpse of her wand, Harry had been attempting to figure out what angle she was trying to play, and for the life of him he couldn't come up with any logical arguments as to why either Dumbledore or Voldemort would send a witch to befriend him. If it were Voldemort, and he had the ability to get someone within such close proximity, it was a safe assumption that he'd already be dead, or at least in a fight for his life. Dumbledore made a bit more sense, as after his outburst in his office at the end of the year he may have wanted to keep a closer eye on Harry, but there were still parts that didn't add up. For one, he knew that the Order of the Phoenix was keeping an eye on Privet Drive, and while he hadn't outright found one of the members watching him, Harry was positive they were there. Any strange witch approaching him should have been met with questions, at the least, though that assumed quite a bit about the general competence of the Order, or lack thereof.

The one thing Harry could be sure of though, was that he was enjoying himself immensely, far more than he had during any other point of this summer. It was nice to have a distraction from the guilt he'd been feeling, and having some of the weight taken off his shoulders by the mere presence of a friendly face; it also definitely didn't hurt for that friendly face to be so pretty.

"Well? Earth to Harry, come in Harry?" Tonks interrupted his thoughts, wondering if she'd broken the kid.

"Sorry about that, sort of drifted off," Harry replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head and blushing slightly, before continuing, "Let's go, I guess I can spend some of the bank's money; not exactly like I can just go back there and ask to put it in an account,"

Tonks laughed at his reply, breaking the somewhat tense moment following both of their respective thought-intensive moments.

"Lead on criminal!"

* * *

It wasn't quite Fortescue's, lacking the extra kick given by the owner's secret recipe, which likely contained magic of some sort. However, it was still quite good and both of them enjoyed their respective choices immensely as they sat around a small table in the almost-empty ice cream parlor. Harry had opted for a small bowl of plain vanilla, while Tonks went for a more extravagant banana split with the whole nine yards on top, everything from whip cream to chocolate sauce to a single cherry resting in the center.

The brightly-lit parlor had a calm, happy atmosphere to it, making both of them lighten up from the deep thoughts they'd been slowly working towards in the park, and served to fight off some of the tiredness that was setting in on both after the long day they'd had.

As delightful as it was, sitting and eating ice cream while casually chatting, Tonks knew she had to ask the one question that had been pressing on her mind throughout the day, though thinking of an appropriate way to ask it was a challenge in and of itself. After all, it wasn't like she could outright ask how he's feeling after watching his Godfather die before his eyes.

"So tell me Harry, for someone who I've been talking to all day, you've barely said a word about your family. How are they? You mentioned something about your aunt earlier, do you live with them?" Tonks asked, to a degree generally curious about how Harry viewed his relatives. She knew that they didn't exactly have a great relationship, but they were still family, weren't they?

Harry sighed and looked down at his partially-eaten bowl of ice cream. This sort of question was inevitable, but that didn't mean he hadn't been dreading it all day.

"Yeah, I live with my aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon, and my cousin Dudley. They're alright I guess, we don't get along too well but they leave me alone and I leave them alone," Harry replied, hoping that would satisfy her, but knowing it probably wouldn't.

Sure enough, the blonde-haired girl pressed on, looking at him intently.

"You don't have some other family you can live with? You know, since you don't get along with your aunt and uncle?"

"Not really, no, there was my godfather but recently he…" Harry trailed off, still staring pointedly at his ice cream. He felt the sharp burn of tears pricking the corners of his eyes, but he blinked rapidly to force them to recede.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure he was a great man," Tonks said gently, sliding a hand across the table to rest over Harry's. She lightly squeezed it, though he still refrained from looking up. "Wherever he is, I'm sure he's proud of you."

"Thanks. That means a lot, more than you know," Harry finally replied, after several moments. He squeezed her hand back, appreciating how soft and smooth it was, then looked up and sent her a tentative smile.

A few more minutes of idle chatter passed as the two half-bloods finished off what was left of their ice cream, with Tonks preparing her excuse as to why Harry wouldn't be able to walk her home.

"It's getting a tad late, should we be getting you home?" Tonks teased, gesturing to him with her spoon.

"I was about to ask you the same question, shall I walk you, Madame?" Harry said, tipping an imaginary hat and giving a slight bow, regardless of how ridiculous it looked while sitting in an oversized chair at an ice cream parlor.

"My dad's pretty over-protective, and he'd go mental if he saw a boy walking me home this late. Besides, I don't live very far, and I can take care of myself," Tonks replied, her expression making it clear that she was daring him to argue, and if he did the results wouldn't be pretty.

"Are you sure? It is pretty late, and I'm sure you can take care of yourself, but it _can_ be dangerous out there."

"Oh, so just because I'm a girl, I'm defenseless?"

"No, but…"

"Exactly, so back off, or you'll be the only one in danger here," She growled playfully.

"Fine, but you'd better be careful," Harry relented, with a mock-glare on his face.

Both of them stood and disposed of their empty ice cream containers, before awkwardly standing in front of one another.

Tonks was the first to break the silence, asking "So I'll see you around?"

"Yeah, I'm not going anywhere, though you have the advantage of knowing where I live while I haven't a clue where you do," Harry replied.

"That's just the way I like it; how am I supposed to be the beautiful, mysterious girl if I get rid of all the mystery?"

Harry was unable to contain his laughter and Tonks soon joined him, both of them giggling away, before she suddenly moved into him, wrapping him up in a gentle hug.

"I'll come see you soon," She whispered, her breath hot against his ear. Just before breaking the embrace, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, before pulling away and walking out of the parlor.

Harry followed, but she was quickly walking down the opposite way he needed to head.

"I mean it though, be careful," He finally called once he'd regained his ability to speak after her retreating form, tone now serious. All he received for his effort, however, was a wave as he watched her make her way down the street, hips swaying.

Harry leaned against the wall of the building as he watched her turn the corner and disappear from his view, as the widest smile he'd had since Sirius's death broke across his face. _Maybe my summer really won't be so boring after all?_

As he began his trek home, while gazing up at the night sky, he caught a glimpse of a shooting star as it flitted across the sky as it disappeared quickly from his view. He already knew exactly what to wish for.

 **A/N: Thanks for reading everyone. Hope everyone's having a great April, because I'm definitely not, as my semester comes to a close and exams begin their fun cycle of sleep-deprivation. Sorry about the delay on this one, with those previously-mentioned exams coming up I've had very little free time to dedicate to pumping out another chapter. No promises for an exact date for the next chapter, I haven't decided if it will be before or after my exams, though ideally I'd like to get it out within a week. Thanks again for reading, have a great day and if you'd like to drop a review, that would be much appreciated. They definitely help kick my butt into gear.**


	5. Turmoil and Decisions

**Disclaimer: Would love to own the rights to the Harry Potter franchise, but alas, of course, I do not. That right goes to J.K Rowlings.**

 **Chapter 5: Turmoil and Decisions**

Tonks stumbled into the dimly lit entrance to the ancestral home of the Black family, narrowly dodging the umbrella stand with which she had an ongoing feud and instead colliding with a small side-table, smacking her knee off it sharply. She cursed under her breath as she reached down and rubbed her smarting knee. It wasn't the first time she'd been annoyed by her lack of grace, and it most definitely wouldn't be her last.

She sniffed as she looked around the gloomy hall, the dank smell of decay and mold filling her nostrils. The large chandelier hanging from the ceiling remained unlit, leaving the job of lighting the long hallway to the small gas lamps lining the walls. They cast long, sinister shadows along the entryway, giving the room even more of a malevolent aspect than it had contained the last time she had found herself in the depressing home. Scrunching her nose in disgust, she took a quick survey of the boots filling the small entranceway, noting that all of the usual shoes were present.

' _None missing but those of Sirius,'_ the dark thought creeping across her subconscious before she could contain it. Shaking her head to rid herself of the lingering thoughts, each bleaker than the one prior, she shook off her shoes and headed towards the light emanating from the kitchen, from where she could faintly hear low voices speaking in hushed tones.

Just as she thought she was clear, her foot caught on the edge of the doormat and catapulted the clumsy metamorphmagus into the blasted umbrella stand, and this time, her ensuing string of curse words was much louder and rather creative.

The commotion drew the attention of the denizen of the portrait hanging on the wall directly in front of the doorway, the portrait of Walburga Black beginning to shriek at the top of her lungs about the _'Half-bloods, blood-traitors and mud bloods sullying my house!'_

The sound of a clearing throat from the far end of the hallway drew her gaze, as she sheepishly met the yellow eyes of a rather bemused werewolf.

"Interesting word choices to refer to an umbrella stand. I'm not exactly sure where the umbrella would stick itself in regards to that troll you mentioned, and I'm not sure I would like to know, so points for creativity," Lupin's voice had the mellow, measured tone of a man weary of the world and aware of his own humanity, but there was an undercurrent of something more.

As she scrutinized the man across from her, she thought back on the budding relationship she had begun with the werewolf. They hadn't quite made it past the initial stages of getting to know each other with the exception of a few dates at a nice muggle restaurant in London, and now she wondered just how far she was ever going to take any relationship with the man. While he was incredibly kind and well-spoken, as well as containing a surprising amount of wit once she broke past his shy outer shell, he was significantly older than her, to a degree where there was very little in common between the two.

It slowly dawned on her that the prospect of having a relationship with someone who wanted her for other than her metamorphmagus abilities and the _potential_ of those abilities had blinded her to the most important part of any relationship, the feeling attached. Security, trust, and comfort in a relationship were each integral parts of any relationship, but it needed that underlying connection to truly come together and become something special, and try as she might, she couldn't find that spark with Lupin.

Tonks was suddenly acutely aware of the emptiness of the hallway as thoughts flew without permission through the forefront of her mind, flickering between the meek smile of the werewolf in front of her and the surprisingly confident smile of a green-eyed teen, aged far beyond his years. The images clashed and conflicted sharply, the stability (if it could be called such) of dating the man many years her senior battling against the bright flame which was growing ever-hotter deep inside at the prospect of merely seeing the unassuming teenager from number 4 Privet Drive again.

And yet, the more she thought about the black-haired boy with the lightning bolt scar, the more she realized how ridiculous the prospect of a relationship between the two was, how many assumptions had to be made about the proposed working of such. Hell, regardless of how strong she may feel, relationships were a two-way street and the entire foundation she had laid for this road was built with lie upon lie, each further from the truth than the last. As far as Harry knew, she was just a muggle girl who thought he was an excellent artist!

Despite all of her logical reasoning behind why it could not work, why it could not possibly meet even the mildest of conclusions her mind was depicting, she could not quench the whisper in the back of her mind which begged, nay, demanded that she see him again as soon as possible, if just to satisfy her own curiosity as to whether she had imagined the draw towards the teen. Or so she kept telling herself, though her excuses were growing flimsier by the minute and she knew they would collapse soon if she did nothing to put those striking green eyes out of her mind, which had slowly dominated the images of the werewolf until green eyes, lightning bolts and messy hair were all that she could picture.

As her thoughts settled, from the background she could hear Walburga still screaming about all of _'The dirty traitors and muggle-lovers!'_ which apparently infested her home, and she abruptly became aware once more of the hallway around her, as Lupin's eyes switched just as swiftly from amusement to concern.

"Tonks? Are you okay?" He asked, his low baritone filled with confusion.

Tonks blinked rapidly and shook her head, before flashing him a small grin as her hair cycled through several colours. "Sorry, just spaced out for a second there, forgot where I was for a moment."

Her hair settling on pink, she closed the gap between her and Remus and brushed past him with a fluidity she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to repeat as the voices in the kitchen went quiet while she entered and chose a seat around the kitchen table, all other seats full with the exception of one which Lupin quickly filled once he'd cast a silencing ward over the room to quiet the painting's yells.

As she adjusted in her seat, the hard, unforgiving back of the wooden chair being pressed uncomfortably into her lower spine, she caught a glimpse of Mundungus Fletcher staring at her from his place near Molly Weasley, with the look of someone weighing different options plastered upon his face. Tonks shot a menacing look towards him, who flinched noticeably backwards into his chair at her glare. She resisted the urge to smile at the naked fear displayed across his face, counting her blessings that no one had been paying attention enough to the petty thief to notice what had happened.

"Now that everyone is _finally_ here, can we begin, or are we going to have any more interruptions?" Severus Snape drawled out, his back arched sharply against his chair as his cool gaze rested upon Tonks, ever-present sneer daring her to say something.

Dumbledore also rested his gaze upon her, but as she met his twinkling eyes she saw nothing but amusement towards her well-known issues with arriving on time.

"Welcome Nymphadora, I hope all is going well at the ministry?" The aged headmaster asked kindly, popping a small lemon drop into his mouth as he smiled benignly at her.

Despite his usage of her much-hated first name, she couldn't resist a small smile.

"It's going well, thank you, though you know how much I dislike my first name!" She growled it out half-heartedly, more a reflect than anything else at this point. She knew the old man used her first name for no reason other than to tease her in a good-natured manner.

The headmaster inclined his head towards her slightly, his smile still present, though the twinkling grew stronger as he confirmed her suspicions that he was simply teasing her, replying "My apologies Nymphadora."

"Now for the meeting, how have everyone's assignments been going? Alastor, old friend, shall we start with you?"

As the usual debriefing began and the gruff ex-Auror commenced his report, she found herself drifting back towards the thoughts of the lean teenager she had spent the day with. Seldom had she enjoyed simply hanging out with someone as much as she had during the day with Harry, but she was well aware of how absurd this entire situation was. She had met the boy a handful of times and then spent one afternoon with him under a false alias and the metamorph may as well already be planning their wedding.

She'd thought about all of the scenarios and they all ended poorly… So why couldn't she get rid of those damn green eyes that gazed at her whenever she shut her eyes?

Tonks' inner turmoil was interrupted again as the sound of raised voices attracted her attention, this time coming from somewhere other than Walburga Black's portrait.

Looking around the table, she saw the matron of the Weasley clan was red-faced and in the middle of a tirade, seemingly directed towards Snape, who's ever-present sneer appeared to be even more filled with disdain than usual.

"How dare you say that about young Harry?! The poor boy just lost his godfather!" Molly shrieked, a look of outrage plastered to her usually jovial face.

 _At this rate,_ Tonks mused, _it won't be long before her face is the same colour as her hair._

Snape scoffed, meeting her angry face with his expressionless black eyes. "If the boy had put as much effort into learning occlumency as he had in feeling sorry for himself, perhaps the mutt would still be around."

Tonks narrowed her eyes at Snape's comment, biting her tongue as she held back from making a sharp response. She didn't have near enough details about Snape's teaching of the teen to be able to argue with him without giving away her recent attachment to the teen, and she wasn't sure what method he was using to teach Harry. Her own experiences with occlumency had come through the Auror's standard training program, which taught a basic understanding and rudimentary usage of the art of defending your mind. They explained it as a useful method of controlling one's emotions and it was also supposed to help with memory recall, plus while it may not be enough to keep someone such as Voldemort out of one's mind, it could buy a precious few seconds or give them at least the awareness of what exactly was happening. Lack of knowledge about the events did nothing to stop Molly, however, who continued to shriek at Snape.

The pink-haired Auror peered around the table, seeing a few similarly-outraged people, but the vast majority of the Order members seemed indifferent to the argument going on around them. That was probably a result of this same argument happening nearly every time Snape and Molly, or Snape and Sirius before he was killed, attended a meeting together. Their childish arguments were only funny for so long before the droning became insufferable.

Tonks let off a quiet sigh as she thought about all of the places she'd rather be right now, and at the top of her list was an ice cream parlour with a teen she'd spent a whopping day with.

 _You're a silly girl, Nymphadora._ That's what her mother always said to her when she was a child, playing endlessly with her abilities to change any part of her body. Her mum was right. She was a silly girl, one who was falling fast down a rabbit hole that was shaped suspiciously similar to a lightning bolt.

She lowered her chin down to rest on the wooden table, flashes of messy raven hair and green eyes darting through her mind. It was going to be a long meeting, especially if that damned spawn of James and Lily Potter refused to afford her mind any peace.

* * *

Harry sat on the edge of his small bed, his sketchpad on his lap as he fiddled with a pencil. It had been hard to contain his nervous energy since meeting that blonde girl who said she just liked his drawings, but mentioned nothing of the wand he'd caught a glimpse of.

He stared down at his drawing again, a half-complete sketch of the girl he'd spent much of the day with staring back. It had taken him forever to get the eyes just right, and now they stared back at him, full of happiness and energy, with an underlying sense of something… _More_. It had taken him forever to perfect that _more,_ that extra energy she contained within her eyes which demanded to be seen, recognized, and catered to.

People say that eyes are the windows to the soul, and if that were true, then those sincere eyes he had been thinking about all day were the eyes of a woman who was friendly, happy, and genuinely interested in him. Deep in the pit of his stomach, though, and the darker corners of his mind, he couldn't shake an uneasy feeling that not all was right here. His attempt at a relationship, if what he had with Cho could be called a 'relationship', left him wary of future endeavors in finding love, and this all seemed too perfect. It was happening way too quickly, going much too fast, and it wasn't exactly a great sign that out of the very little he knew about the blonde-haired girl, one of the few things he could be sure about was that she was lying to him or at least withholding a very large secret. Harry didn't have much experience with women, but he was fairly certain that that was definitely not a positive point to build a relationship on.

Harry looked towards Hedwig's cage, where his loyal owl companion was steadily cleaning her feathers, working away at making her white sheen brighter than ever. Hedwig paused in her cleaning attempts as she caught Harry's gaze, looking at him with an intelligence that surprised him every day. He wasn't sure if all owls in the magical world were smarter than normal owls, but he knew his definitely was.

"So girl, what do you think? Should I talk to her about it and see if she has a real reason to hide something like being a witch from me? Or do you think she's got some nasty intentions for your poor owner?" Harry asked her quietly, feeling a tad silly for having to ask his owl for advice.

A gentle _h_ _oot_ was all he received in answer, but it was enough. A small smile broke across his face, his shoulders relaxing as some of the tension left. At least no matter what happened, he'd have his owl to keep him company when he wasn't sure what to do, as well as his friends. Maybe it was time to send a letter to Hermione and ask for her advice. He was sure she'd have an interesting suggestion or two about his new lady-friend.

Regarding the confusing blonde girl dominating his mind, there was one thing he knew for certain: Whether she was friend or foe or something more, there was something he wasn't being told and he was going to figure it out. Contrary to popular belief, Hermione wasn't the only one who hated not knowing the answer to a riddle, and Ron wasn't the only one who knew a thing or two about strategy.

Harry placed his sketchpad down carefully next to him and reached for the quill on his nightstand. He had a letter to write.

* * *

The slithering of a large serpent as it slowly slid across the cold marble floor was the only sound within the room, despite being filled with dark figures. A large throne, dominating the center of the room, was surrounded by these kneeling figures, as a pale man exuding confidence flicked his baleful gaze around the room.

"Nagini, come here," The man hissed, resulting in the snake turning and wrapping itself around the throne, resting its large head upon the top. Several of the figures crowded around the throne flinched backwards as the snake's eyes stared them down, her forked tongue flitting out briefly to taste the air and enjoy the naked fear emanating from the figures, many of whom were new recruits and unaccustomed to the presence of the Dark Lord.

"What is it that you have to report, Flint?"

Flint, from his place on his knees, knew that Voldemort's even tone of voice belied his true nature, one as quick to attack as the snake wrapped around his seat. If what he said wasn't interesting enough or, God forbid, was seen as somehow disrespectful to the powerful man seated before him, his life may be dramatically shorter than he had hoped.

Taking a deep breath, Flint began to speak, hoping that his information was good. "My lord, one of my informants in the Ministry, someone who recognizes how important our cause is, informed me that his son saw the Potter boy a few days ago in a muggle neighbourhood in Surrey."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow, amusement shining in his eyes at the way Flint flinched backwards at the small motion.

"And this source is… Reliable?"

"I would trust him with my life, my lord," Flint replied, voice steadying. Having doubts about your information and going to the Dark Lord with it regardless was tantamount to suicide. His informant was a friend of his families and had no reason to lie.

Voldemort let out a low chuckle, the sound sending shivers down Flint's spine. "That is good because you are trusting him with your life. If he's wrong…"

The Dark Lord left the threat hanging in the air, but it was clear that Flint's life was a good as over if this information was anything but the absolute truth.

"Now, here's what we're going to do about that interesting little tidbit…"

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you, as always, for reading. Hallelujah for being done school for the summer! All of my exams are done and I will hopefully have no more excuses stopping me from updating this story regularly. I've got the skeleton for the next chapter pieced together and some of the groundwork laid for a few chapters past that. Remember to leave a review if you enjoyed, they help me get my butt in gear when it comes to updating. I also have no issue answering any questions should any arise, so feel free to send me a private message about those.**

 **Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and have a great day!**


	6. Deliberations and Death Eaters

**Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing but a rather impressive collection of dirty socks. I really should do some laundry.**

 **Writing is an outlet for me. I'm sorry to have made anyone looking forward to this stories continuation wait this long – But it mainly serves as a coping mechanism for me, and I had a damn good summer with my girlfriend and friends, which made it a lot harder for me to get any sort of motivation to write. But now that I'm back at Uni, finding stress is definitely not an issue at all! So here you guys go. Sorry again about the wait. I'll try not to repeat that – No promises though. Love y'all.**

* * *

 _Hey Cute Blonde Girl,  
I'm sorry that I don't really have any other way to address you, after all you never did give me your name after all… Though I suppose this is more my fault than yours, that's a lapse of manners on my end. Blame my upbringing I guess – Just kidding, I'm an orphan. I get an out on this one.  
_ _I just wanted to tell you that I noticed that certain stick you thought you could hide from me- I know you're a witch_ _-_ _you haven't been honest with me._

Harry gazed down at his unfinished letter, smoothing it down once again as he crossed out yet another line. Nerves were wracking his stomach to a frightening degree, causing a bead of sweat to drip down his forehead and splash against the page. He was planning on leaving it with her after he saw her next if she didn't fess up to what exactly she was doing, as it was less dangerous than outright calling the witch out on her lies.

' _You can face down Voldemort, win the Tri-Wizard Tournament, yet you struggle with a bit of confrontation and a damn letter?'_ A nasty voice in the back of his head asked, sounding eerily similar to Seamus Finnigan. Why his internal monologue would decide to come in the voice of a pubescent Irish teenager, Harry wasn't quite sure, but regardless of why he would have to make sure he gave his dorm mate a smack when he next saw him. Not like that bastard didn't deserve it with his snoring.

Harry glanced at the clock again, eyes widening at the time. He had found a scrunched up piece of paper out on his roof an hour or so earlier while trying to sate the demon inside that demanded he draw if he wanted sleep. The paper, aside from being a shockingly bright shade of yellow, had been quite clear with its instructions: ' _Meet me at the park in two hours or I'll steal your sketchbook and make you watch while it burns.'_

Even as late as it was, he could still hear the television downstairs and see a faint light peeking out from under his bedroom door, meaning that Vernon had fallen asleep on the sofa. If he wanted to make it to the park in time without waking his perpetually-angry uncle, he had to get a move on.

Throwing aside the shirt he had been wearing and lifting the lid to his trunk, Harry dug through the mess within, occasionally pulling out a shirt just to toss it aside moments later. He finally settled on one of the nicer shirts he had; a plain black one with a white trim along the sleeves, one Hermione had forced him to buy while in Hogsmeade to replace at least part of his ' _absolutely horrendous'_ wardrobe. After he'd pulled it on and straightened it to the best of his abilities, he grabbed his wand and tucked it into his waistband. Despite being a relatively mundane neighbourhood, you could never be too careful, a lesson he had learned well following the dementor attack the previous summer.

Harry grabbed the small hand mirror Sirius had given him to give himself a final look over, feeling a sharp pang in his heart at the memory of Sirius' gift to him.

' _And what a great job you did to repay him,'_ Came the obnoxious voice of that prick Seamus. Why couldn't his inner asshole take the form of a cute girl, like Cho? Or a certain blonde he was on his way to see? Even Hermione would have been acceptable. But no. Finnigan it was.

Shaking his head to clear himself of the idle musings about just what he'd do to that damn dorm mate of his, Harry gently opened his door and shut it behind him, careful to avoid the third floorboard on the left from his door handle. He knew full well from prior experience that it creaked just enough to wake Vernon up, and he wasn't in the mood for steamed walrus.

Making his way down the stairs, he froze as he heard the snoring on the couch stop for a brief second, just to shiver in disgust as a monstrous fart was let rip from the sleeping form of his uncle. Holding his breath, he snuck behind and made it out the door with no issue. Reaching the street, Harry finally took a deep breath, savouring the fresh air of a clear night.

' _Boy-Who-Lived, felled by the noxious nocturnal emissions of his muggle uncle.'_ The Daily Prophet would have just eaten that one up. On the bright side, Voldemort might have died from the heart attack caused by laughing too much after seeing it.

Harry broke into a light jog as he hit the road, the steady rhythm of his feet slapping against the ground managing to work wonders in calming his heartbeat down. Feeling the wind in his hair, while not quite as nice as the feeling he got from soaring through the air on a broomstick, still succeeded in helping his mind process information in a way that didn't make him feel as though he was screaming blindly into a vacuum.

* * *

As he finally neared the park he slowed down to a relaxed walk, letting a natural smile overwhelm his face as he caught sight of a blonde head bobbing up and down as she swung gently on the swing set.

"Hey!" Harry called out, letting out a rather unmanly giggle of satisfaction at the way she jumped in surprise.

"You git!" She yelled as he quickly closed the distance between them and gave her a rather awkward one-armed hug.

The heady smell of her perfume rushed into his nose and made him see stars briefly, prolonging the length of the hug past awkward and into the 'relatively creepy' realm.

"Are you ever going to let go?" She whispered in his ear, sending shivers down his spine as he spun away with a furious blush.

Harry cleared his throat, doing his best to put the awkward event behind him. It wasn't his fault that there was some sort of magnetism between the two of them that had never been there with any of his previous crushes. Even Cho hadn't called to him like this, and while he knew it was moving too fast, knew a relationship built on lies was doomed to fail, knew he was in over his head and sinking fast… He was happy to drown in it while he still could.

"Maybe I was scared and needed some comfort? After all, you're making me meet you in the middle of the night in a secluded area," Harry replied, trying to save some face with a bit of humour. Letting some of his laughter slip into his voice, he continued, "Unless this is all some elaborate set up and you're really looking to pimp me out."

Blonde eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. "Well if you've figured me out that easily, it wasn't a very elaborate set up now was it?"

"Miss, I do have to ask one serious question though, since you've somehow managed to avoid telling me at any other point."

"And what would that be?" Tonks replied, not letting the nervousness she was feeling slip into her voice at all.

"What's your name, mademoiselle?" Harry asked with a wink and a curtsy, offsetting the awkward with a bit of forced humour.

Tonks giggled a lit to help defuse the situation that had been potentially brewing, while simultaneously cursing her overactive imagination for nearly causing a slip.

"It took you long enough to ask, now didn't it? It's Sarah."

With that out of the way, Harry grinned and took a seat next to her on the swing set, easy conversation filling the night as they relaxing and enjoyed each other's company.

* * *

Well over an hour of lighthearted discussion flew by, and before he knew it, they had gotten up and began walking back to his uncle's house. Despite taking a much longer route than they probably should have, especially given the time, it was all too soon that they found themselves at the end of his street.

Harry wanted nothing more than to smack himself upside the head as he glanced at the blonde next to him, who had somehow managed to distract him with conversation so well that the thought of bringing up a certain wand had barely crossed his mind, and when it had he had been enjoying himself so much that he couldn't help but shove the negative thoughts way.

Now, though, he was almost out of time to ask before he'd have missed his chance once again. Unconsciously brushing against the comforting weight of his wand, still tucked tightly into the waistband of his briefs, he turned to face the blonde witch walking next to him and reached out to grab her arm and pull her to a gentle stop.

Unbeknownst to the green-eyed boy wonder, there was a very similar debate raging in the mind of the woman next to him. The stress of quite literally living a lie was taking its toll on her, and the urge to tell Harry the truth was making it much harder to hold one steady shape than it should have been, especially when it was so far from her own normal body.

All she wanted to do was tell him the truth every time he looked at her with those deep, emerald green eyes. For a guy who had seen so much, he still wore his heart on his sleeve, and she could see all of the emotions in his eyes when he looked at her. It stabbed at her resolve every time she saw that the most prevalent feeling she was getting from him was still affection.

Swallowing hard, she turned to him, resolved to finally tell him the truth and take the lumps that came with it. He would be well within his rights to hate her for what she was about to tell him, and she wouldn't blame him in the slightest for it. For something this promising to end like that, though, she knew she'd be absolutely crushed. _'It's for the best,'_ She told herself yet again. She was surprised, however, to find he had already turned to face her and had his hand outstretched towards her arm.

"Harry? I've got something I need to talk to you about, and it's pretty serious. I want you to hear me out, if that's okay?" Tonks finally blurted it out, after a prolonged staring contest that had no real winner. His green eyes, tinted with concern, had calmed her down enough for her to get this off her chest. If she didn't do it right now, she wasn't sure she'd ever have a chance to.

Harry crossed his arms and waited, a patient smile on his face. If she was willing to tell him the truth about her being a witch, most of the 'worst-case' scenarios he had planned for had next to no chance to coming true.

"I'm actually-" Whatever she was about to say was abruptly cut off as several loud cracks echoed through the quiet night, breaking both of them out of the moment they were having.

Harry instantly had his wand out and trained on five dark figures that had appeared down the street at the opposite end from them, and with a sideways glance saw, to no surprise, that his (girl?)friend had hers out as well. What did surprise him to a certain degree, however, was that her reflexes were as fast as his or faster.

Tonks, however, was shocked at how calmly he was taking the supposed revelation of her being a witch. It wasn't the time or the place for questions of that nature, however, and her auror training was rearing its head as she scanned for hiding spots. They had nowhere near enough time to duck for cover, however, as the head of the group of cloaked figures caught sight of them and yelled out to his cohorts.

Harry snapped up a quick shield to block the first curse thrown at them, while Tonks rolled out of the way of a second and fired back into the group. She was rewarding with a yell of pain, but it was bittersweet, as she watched Harry's shield shatter under the weight of a dark purple curse and blast him backwards into the shrubs of the house behind them.

Seeing red at the potentially serious injury of the teen she had found herself increasingly attached to, she whipped a borderline-illegal curse back at them and had the satisfaction of watching one of the cloaked figures drop suddenly. She had seen that curse used before and knew he would not be getting up any time soon, if ever again.

The collapse of one of his companions clearly infuriated the head of the group, who sent a chain of spells at her, and it was only through some quick movement of feet and fancy spellwork that she found herself surviving the onslaught.

The duel began in earnest then as she launched a counterattack, but the head death eater was unusually skilled, and with the other two backing him up it was beginning to be much more than she could handle. Tonks could feel herself quickly tiring and becoming increasingly lightheaded as they advanced closer and closer, gaining ground at a pace which terrified her.

Just as she believed she was going to be completely overpowered, the head of the group of death eaters, who had been causing her so much trouble by himself, suddenly lacked a head himself, while simultaneously sprouting a large hole in his chest that he had lacked previously.

Looking behind him in surprise, she saw Harry furiously casting spells of a much more powerful nature than she had seen him use in the Department of Mysteries. Green eyes shone with an unholy anger as a second death eater found himself overwhelmed from the sheer fury of the magic being unleashed on him, and the final one went down almost as easily as the first two when Tonks finally put aside her shock and joined the fight as well.

They were finally left staring at each other, eyes ignoring what was surely at least one dead death eater. Sympathy was much harder to find for someone who had been attempting to kill you moments before, after all.

"I think you have some explaining to do _, Sarah_."

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry if you aren't a fan of the revolving perspectives between Tonks and Harry between chapters. I find it a useful tool in fleshing out both of their minds in such a way as to make this romance actually make some degree of sense. It's essentially a relationship built on an initial mental attraction which evolves as they get to know each other, which I see as a much more likely scenario than the "she's cute and clumsy, he's smart and suddenly super powerful let's date" that pops up oh-too-often in this pairing's fanfiction. Next chapter will deal with some of the fallout between Tonks and Harry, as well as the Ministry's reaction to a quiet muggle suburb going off with spells.**

 **My most heartfelt apologies yet again about the delay on updating. Thanks to anyone who stuck around. I appreciate you far more than you know. Thanks especially to Killy, for reminding me that somehow, people actually do enjoy reading what I write.**

 **As always, thanks everyone for reading, and have a great day.**


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